Castaway

[Hela]

One moment, she was about to defeat her idiot brothers and commence her enslavement of the multiverse.

The next, she was being crushed to death by an idiot flame giant.

Yet, it was not the fate of the Goddess of Death to perish during Ragnarök.

While she lost her grip on reality as the heat and pressure smashed down all around her, when the Asgardian regained consciousness, she was anywhere but the desolate, shattered realm that would have been left in Surtur’s wake.

Instead, Hela found herself floating atop a charred door. As her doubled vision slowly refocused, the woman squeezed onto the shattered frame of her makeshift raft and attempted to relive the final moments before the darkness. The blow should have slain her, should it?

No, of course not. Death was her realm, not her fate.

With the aching in her skull abated and her vision restored enough to see clearly, Hela lifted her head from the door and squinted into the horizons.

Nothing.

A scowl spread across her lovely visage as her features darkened. How long could she endure out here before conditions grew worse? How long until nightfall? In an attempt to ascertain what time of day it might be, the Asgardian lifted her head up to pinpoint the location of any stars in the sky. Instead of stars or even a dense cloud cover, she saw land masses high in the skies above her.

Her first assumption had been that the destruction of Asgard had flung her back to Midgard, as that had been the only other location to which she had been linked since her revival. Instead, it appeared that she was somewhere else entirely in the realms. Which one of the nine realms was this one? She had only been in Asgard for a short period of time, and her memories of the other realms had just gradually started to return in all the vivid, bloodstained details.

Yet, she couldn’t recall oceans with floating islands in the sky.

Nevertheless, there was nothing she could do from the water. With a sneer, she lifted her head and let go of the door.

But rather than soar gallantly and gracefully into the sky, Hela flopped into the water as the back end of her makeshift raft smacked her in the chin.

With the obscenities lost in the bubbles, the Goddess of Death clawed her way back onto the door and dug her fingernails into the wood to quell the fresh waves of rage boiling inside her beleaguered frame. Surely, this was just weakness brought about by surviving the best that Surtur could muster. Lifting a hand to her head, Hela scowled at the absence of her headdress, but that small piece of vanity could wait until later.

For now, she had to…

Survive.

Her powers would return, she knew this to be true. Once the fatigue wore off, she would ascend to the floating landmasses and exert her dominion over whatever part of the Nine Realms this was. After all, she was Queen of the Realms, even if those two idiots had seen fit to destroy Asgard.

The fact that nearly all of her powers had been rooted in Asgard was seemingly lost to Hela as she drifted back into a semiconscious haze.

 

[Azula]

She choked.

Fire Lord Azula, supreme ruler of the Fire Nation, had choked. Faced down by her wimpy, good-for-nothing brother and the Water Tribe slut, she’d slipped up — badly — in a moment when slipping up was not an option.

Tears welled in her eyes. Fire erupted from her throat. She screamed, and screamed, and screamed, falling backwards over herself as they looked down on her.

Looked… down… on her?

Another screech. Another burst of sapphire flame from her throat, so intense she choked.

She couldn’t breathe. The flames felt salty as they surged back and forth through her body. Her lungs were on fire. She felt water running down her cheeks. Her eyes popped open.

She opened her mouth to let out another shrill scream at the pair of her worst enemies, but they’d disappeared — all she could see was bright blue sky.

And now she was literally choking.

She clawed at her closing throat, suddenly realizing the salty, fiery sensation she’d felt moments before hadn’t been her own blue-flamed breath; it had been water. She kicked her legs frantically, writhing on… whatever ground she was on, feeling fingers wrap around her ankles and a palm reach under her and flip her over. The same palm slammed into her back, and salt water spilled from her mouth onto the wooden floor beneath her.

Her head snapped toward her would-be rescuers. She didn’t know if it was the water clogging her systems or a side effect of whatever had transported her away from the Fire Nation capital, but she couldn’t hear or see anything clearly. The figures before her were nothing more than blurs, and they seemed to be saying some nonsense, but it sounded like garbled nothingness.

Black, lazily chopped bangs matted to her forehead as she lunged for the hazy figures. Her talons scraped something, but to little avail. She let out a grunt and circled her fists before smashing one through the air separating her and one of the blurry men.

When no flames erupted from her knuckles, she blinked.

Where was her fire?!

Another blink, and she’d launched herself toward the side of the structure. She peered over the edge to see what her escape route looked like.

As far as her eyes could see, water covered everything. She looked down and slowly the locale around her came into focus. A boat? Ship? A wooden one, starkly dissimilar to the Fire Nation’s metallic monsters she’d commanded.

She glanced over at her rescuers, and determined into the water was her only option. She spun around and prepared to leap overboard.

She hated water.

Clang!

Once again, she burned. This time, in her left temple, pain emanating from the spot she’d just been struck by something hard and metallic, numbing the rest of her body until her legs gave out beneath her and she crashed, unconscious, to the floor.

As she faded away, she barely made out a few words escaping one of her rescuer’s lips.

“…crazy bitch.”

 

[Hela]

By the time the shadow of the vessel had fallen over Hela, she had lost track of the hours she had been bobbing along in the seemingly limitless expanse of ocean (and ocean it was – a taste-testing of the waters had revealed retch-worthy levels of salt).

“Captain, I think we have another one over on the starboard side!”

Hela played the part of some weak nothing who had survived the sinking of their maritime vessel. Underneath her matted hair she grinned, understanding that not everything had been lost to her. Just an hour or so ago, she had managed to manifest one of her blades and even command it to bob and weave in the skies above her head. As she drifted toward the vessel, she tried to get a look at it without moving her skull, but eventually she stopped and lay still on the door.

A few moments later, she nearly lost her disguise when a large hook sank into the wood just a few inches from her skull. Shortly thereafter, her sense of smell was assaulted by a foul blend of poor hygiene, various tars, and fetid kelp. A thick, weighted net crashed around Hela—the type that some ponduck fishermen would use to scoop up shellfish—and the woman had to fight the urge to murder everything in eyesight.

“Oh, that’s odd… it’s another woman,” someone said as Hela and her board were gradually tugged up onto the deck. With her eyes still closed, she listened as they lifted away the tethered ropes and discarded the door back into the ocean. “How the hell we finding two women in a day, Cap’n?”

“This is bad luck,” an older voice replied. “These are terrible omens… we should return her to the Locker. And while we’re at it, we should throw in that other one, before she comes to and starts trying to spew brimstone everywhere again.”

Spew brimstone? Were agents of Surtur here in this oceanic realm?

“Is she dead?” A third voice asked. A boot slid under Hela’s shoulder as she was rolled onto her back like some trash being brushed off the street. “Older than the other one, so maybe we should throw her overboard.”

At that, there was a chorus of deep laughter from all around the deck of the vessel.

In an instant, Hela bolted upright, causing an immediate cessation to the frivolity unfolding at her expense. “You insult me?” She bellowed as the air above her head was suddenly adorned with a collecting of free floating swords. The men around her looked as if they hadn’t seen a shower or a shred of civilization in months. Some even had debris in their beards and skin peeling from their exposed arms and legs, yet they mocked her?

“The Goddess of Death has come for you on this day,” Hela growled as the necroswords took aim at the nearest warm body and sprung into their heinous deeds. Never doubting that the first wave would kill its intended targets, Hela summoned another blade into her right hand and turned her focus toward the helm of the vessel. A man with four missing teeth and a wooden stump for a leg was standing grimly by the ship’s wheel. “Are you the captain of this vessel?” She shouted above the screams of dying crewmembers.

“Aye,” he replied sternly as he reached for a pistol on his belt. “And yer intrudin’ on mah ship,”

“Correct,” Hela replied as she dashed forward and drove her sword through the man’s throat. “My ship,” she whispered softly into his ear before the light faded.

Leaving the slain captain behind and summoning a fresh weapon, Hela saw that the deck was mostly empty of living souls. A handful of others had dove into the waters below in an effort to save themselves from being stabbed and hacked to death by the freefloating swords. Those who remained had curled into balls or tried to tuck themselves behind crates or barrels.

“Anyone who wants to serve me can remain on this ship,” she shouted. “Defy me, and I promise that you will suffer a slow and painful death.”

A young man stumbled out from a nearby cabin and fell to his feet. “I surrender!”

Hela tilted her head before grabbing the man by the collar of his coat. Pulling him onto his feet, she summoned a sword that floated precariously above his head. “Steer the ship, and if you fail or attempt to cross me, this blade will sever your hands and I will watch you bleed to death with a smile on my face. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Queen,” Hela corrected before releasing the young man to helm the vessel.

Turning her focus to the rest of the ship, Hela commanded her blades to tear a path below deck, and once down there, she found herself staring through the cell bars of the brig. In the back corner, a young woman with dark hair and fierce eyes glared forth from the shadows.

“You’re not a fire giant,” Hela remarked. “Nor are you dressed like the rest of these wastrels. You’re not from here, are you?”

“No,” the other woman replied.

“Well then these aren’t needed,” Hela sneered as she wrenched the door of the cell from its hinges and discarded it. “Don’t kill me, and I won’t kill you.” She added before taking a step away from the formerly caged woman, who took her sweet time in exiting the cell.

“Azula.” She finally spoke.

“Hela,” came the reply.

“Plan?”

“Well I killed anyone who wouldn’t follow orders, but aside from that…” Hela shrugged. “Land would be preferable.”

 

[Azula]

“What do you mean there’s no land?”

A crack-ing sound rang out as Azula’s boot smashed into the offending crewman’s jaw. He tumbled into a haphazard backwards somersault and slammed into the floor, withering with a whimper. The deposed Fire Lord’s chest heaved with fury as she abandoned the modicum of peace her brief imprisonment brought her almost as quick as she’d found it. She scrunched her brows together, wrapping her fingers into a fist. Heat pulsed down her arm as her fist clenched. A smirk crossed her face; her fire remained, it seemed, though perhaps harder to reach than in her homeland.

Her teeth flashed through her lips. As a glint of sunlight reflected off them, the crewman scurried further away from her. Azula chuckled; he cowered like a stupid, weak animal fleeing a much more frightening beast. Like prey, scurrying futilely from its destined predator. She laughed little, but if anything brought her to it, it was futility. Especially the futility of those who dared to try and hold her hostage.

She was an animal, but she hated to be caged. She’d only been in the depths of this vessel for a short time, but her fuse was equally short, and the people of this ship — whoever they were — had lit it.

Behind her, Hela leaned against the doorway to the below decks, observing silently. Azula couldn’t put her finger on why, but she could almost feel the Goddess of Death’s eyes on her. They burned into her in a way that felt strange and off-putting, yet somehow familiar. The scrutiny unnerved her, and with a long, deep breath, she released her fist, straightening her spine and glancing over her shoulder at her newfound ally.

“Should I kill him?”

She bit her lip, a tad surprised at herself. When had Azula, Crown Princess-turned-Fire Lord, ever asked anyone permission to do anything? Her father excepted, of course — but even then, she’d found her biggest successes when she’d struck out on her own: the sacking of Ba Sing Se came to mind.

“Before he kills you, certainly,” Hela gestured with a hint of sarcasm.

Azula scoffed, offended by the implication that this peon could touch her, when she felt the breezy portent of an incoming blow gust her direction. Her fingers curled into a fist once more and she shoved her arm out in front of her, sapphire flames crackling to life in the air just before her knuckles. The embers coalesced swiftly into a menacing fireball and burst towards the brash sailor with a brush of her palm.

His last ditch effort to save his life and ship ended abruptly and prematurely as fire engulfed his face. Bit by bit, his screams barely audible over the crackle of Azula’s flames, his skin burnt to a crisp, turning a charcoal black before clumping in a pile of ash at the princess’s feet. She turned toward Hela.

The goddess’s eyes fixed on what was left of Azula’s failed assailant. She still seemed remarkably disinterested.

“Hm,” she nodded. “Not a giant. But.... fire. Hm.”

The women’s eyes met. Beneath Hela’s bluish-gray pupils, Azula sensed trepidation. The goddess regarded her with a specific loaded curiosity Azula couldn’t place. Was it… fear? She wouldn’t blame the elder woman for being afraid. Her firebending prowess in her homeland had been unmatched, recent embarrassments notwithstanding.

If that was the case, however, Hela didn’t betray it further. She swept onto the deck, her cloak whipping Azula’s leg lightly as she passed, until she stood at the center of the vessel, hands on her hips.

“Helmsman,” she called, “where’s the nearest port?”

The ship’s woebegone pilot leaned out from behind the hulking wheel he’d been placed in charge of. “Uh, you’re looking at it, mum.”

Azula and Hela looked starboard simultaneously.

On the horizon ahead, a gargantuan structure was just coming into view. Without even willing them to do so, Azula’s feet tread slowly toward the ship’s edge. As she walked, she took in the magnificent site before her: a gigantic, metallic obelisk, jet black in color, sticking lopsided out of the ocean’s waves. Electric blue light streaked the sides of it, fading in and out indiscriminately, more in some places than in others. Near where it touched the water, layer upon layer of what looked like extremely thick fishing netting stacked to form a flimsy base. The nets seemed to attach to the obelisk — though Azula couldn’t imagine how — and connect it to a veritable army of ships. The vessels ranged in size from similar to their own to much, much smaller to a few even larger crafts.

“Close your mouth.” Hela’s voice signaled her arrival in Azula’s orbit, and it was only at her elder’s insistence the princess noticed her jaw had been hanging ever-so-slightly ajar.

“What is… what is that?” the Fire Lord asked aloud, stammering against her better nature.

“The nearest port, apparently,” Hela shrugged, glancing at her would-be ally. “Oh,” she realized, “you mean the spaceship.”

Azula turned to Hela, who raised an eyebrow at the young girl’s ignorance and then pointed a long, elegant finger up at the sky. The fire princess’s eyes followed where it led and she saw them: huge chunks of rock suspended tens of thousands of meters above their heads. Floating islands.

“How do we get up there?” Azula blinked to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her, but the massive sky islands didn’t disappear.

“Not sure,” Hela mused. She placed a hand on Azula’s shoulder. “But I aim to find out.”

Azula nodded.

***​

As night fell on the curious world of Opealon, the pair of wicked women docked amongst the haphazard ‘city’ of vessels.

And so a new darkness slunk into the Crossroads.

 

[Rominia]

Rominia hopped down onto the rocking boat, feeling the wood crack and groan underneath her weight. A wave of nausea hit, the natural sway of the ocean was still unfamiliar. Taking a moment to gather herself and to swallow the small amount of rancid vomit that crawled up her throat. Withdrawing her warhammer, she approached the cabin of the boat. She knocked, rapping her fist against the door. No answer. Rolling her eyes and letting out a pained sigh, she let her warhammer thud to the floor. She tightened her grip against the deer-hide hilt and tensed her muscles. With one blow she smashed the door in, the metal hinges flying loose and shards of wood decorated the floor. She found her quarry scrambling through the window. By the time he got his first leg out of the cabin, she had grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him to the ground.

Her quarry was more scrawny than was described. His skin was brown and cracked, the remainder of his teeth dark yellow, and he reeked of cheap booze and body odor. The wimp of a man scurried into a corner, cowering before the built woman before him. “What do you want? Just leave me alone.” he whimpered with his legs shaking.

Raising the warhammer over her shoulder, Rommie spoke matter-of-factly, domineering over the poor man. “The Captain says you haven’t paid your ‘protection’ fees. He’s sent me to collect.” Her eyes bored themselves into his. His eyes widened in realization.

“No. No! Where’s Tommy? He knows I always make it up to him. The Captain will get his money, he just needs to be patient.” He rambled, raising his hands over his face.

“Well, The Captain found out that Tommy was taking bribes and cuts. He told me to help Tommy learn how to swim,” Rominia squatted down to be eye level with the coward. “Too bad Tommy was a shitty swimmer. And now I’m stuck doing his fucking job,” she groaned. With a grunt, she hefted the warhammer from her shoulder and slammed it in between his legs. “Now, I have a question for you? Does The Captain look like a bitch?”

“What?!” the man babbled.

Rominia punched the man square in the face. Reeling from the blow, he whimpered as he dug himself further into the corner. His eye was red and was already beginning to welt. That would leave a mark. “Does he look like a bitch?”

“No!” the man screamed with fear.

“Then why are you trying to fuck him like a bitch, Bobby?”

“I didn’t”

“Yes you did! Yes you did,” she paused as she leaned in closer. “And The Captain doesn’t like to get fucked by anyone other than his lovers,” she enunciated mere inches from Bobby’s face.

Slink Rommie felt a sharp pain in her side. Looking down, she saw the metallic shine of a dagger buried deep into her abdomen. Bobby used this to push past her and made a run for the door. Without hesitation, she threw her warhammer with all of her might. The heavy weapon managed to clip Bobby in the back, pushing him to the floor. Rominia braced herself against the side of the boat as she stood up, wincing as she yanked the dagger from her side.

“The Captain told me to leave you with broken fingers…” she panted as her bones began to crack and reform. “But this? This is for me,” Rominia growled as the black of her pupils were swallowed by a red glowing light.

***

When Rominia first came to the crossroads, she was completely taken aback. Before she was bleeding out after being defeated by a Vampire Lord. Now she was perfectly healthy in human form on an army of ships. Taking a look around her surroundings she was completely stunned to see what the fleet of ships was anchored too. The enormous, shattered metallic object was jaw-dropping. It called to her. Hopping from ship to ship, she grew closer to the alien ship, seeing more detail as she drew nearer. As she landed, each boat swayed back and forth under her pressure, making her more and more seasick.

She hopped onto one ship where she saw a large man, filled to the brim with tattoos and muscles crossing his arms. One large scar crossed over his eye and bled over onto his nose. She aimed to move around the man, hopefully ignoring him. As she was about to jump, the man extended his arm blocking her path. Irritated, she turned to glare at him but he was wielding an enormous grin.

“Don’t you think it’s rude to not say ‘hello’ to a neighbor?” He coyly grinned. His arm pressed into her further, forcing her back into the middle of the boat.

“I’m not your neighbor,” she growled, baring her canines at him.

“We should get to know each other then, my name is Tom. But you can call me Tommy,” he gave her a wink. “Though I guess that means you haven’t paid your ‘protection fees’ to The Captain yet have you?” He spoke while grabbing her chin and looking her up and down.

She forcefully grabbed his hand and yanked it from her face. She retorted, “Do that again and you’ll lose the hand.”

He took another step towards her, but she stood her ground. Looking deep in her eyes he condescended, “Tch. Tch. Tch. No need to be so aggressive.” He circled her like one would circle prey, “However, I’m assuming your silence means you haven’t also paid your ‘protection fees’.”

She scoffed and instinctively flexed, “I do not need protection. Especially from someone like you.” She narrowed her eyes and puffed her chest.

Pretending to be offended he mocked her, “I would never do anything to hurt such a dainty little thing. I just know Opealon can be a dangerous place for a young girl like you and The Captain offers the best protection.” His confident smile seemed to quickly become threatening.

She patronizingly patted his chest and tilted her head, “I think I’ll do just fine.” She moved to brush past, but was quickly stopped.

“Now that’s just a damn shame. It would certainly be bad if you were to get hurt,” he moved directly in front of. “Though I guess personal experience is the best lesson,” he snarked. He then let out a piercing whistle. From the corners of the ship emerged a motley crew of various pirates with swords, whips, and pistols.

“Sorry darlin,” he smirked as he put on brass knuckles. “But business is business.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she drew her warhammer. The pirate crew moved in slowly, the clanking of metal whips and the spray of the ocean were the only sounds to break the tension. One of the pirates sprang forward with his rapier. Managing to evade the blow, she swung the warhammer across his chest, creating a satisfying thud. Her bones began to scream as they elongated, her jaw dislocating and fingers breaking and reforming. A gunshot glanced off of her shoulder and she jerked to see the attacker. His face grew pale as he saw the abomination she was transforming into. He hurriedly loaded gunpowder into the barrel, dropping most of it onto the floor. More pirates came from behind and swung their swords. Just managing to raise her warhammer in time, she blocked the blows but the force was strong enough to send her reeling. By this time, her body had erupted in fur and her eyes turned a bright blood red. She let out a terrifying roar as she rose from the ground, her massive size domineering the boat.

“Don’t kill it! Capture it alive!” Tommy commanded. “The Captain will want to see this,” he mumbled to himself.

She matched his command with a growl, inviting anyone to try. A whip cracked across her back and she howled in pain. She turned and batted away her attacker with her claw, spiraling him into the ocean. Others rushed in to help, but Rominia swatted away many attackers, biting them in their shoulders or leaving a massive gash on their sides. However, there were too many of them and as soon as one got a stab wound in, many others ensued. With each successive wound, she let out a pained whimper and she slumped to the ground. As she began to fade to black, she felt metal chains wrap themselves around her limbs and the dying sounds of Tommy’s commands.

When she next woke up, she was in the recesses of an unknown ship, bound by rope. She panicked and quickly assessed her surroundings. That bastard Tommy was standing on one side of the ship but there was a more prominent figure. The shadow of a large pirate, with a large hat, sat at the end of the room, with his legs crossed. She tried to make him out, but the blood loss had made her woozy.

“I brought you something special, captain,” Tommy kneeled and bowed his head.

“What did you bring me this time?” Rommie blinked in brief confusion. The Captain was a woman. Her voice was so sultry and soothing, yet commanding and intimidating.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy. I brought you a lycanthrope, a powerful one. She did kill many of our men, unfortunately,” he spoke through his teeth as he glared at Rominia.

“Oh is she? Show me,” she decreed.

“Of course, Captain,” he nodded and he moved over to Rommie.

“Now do as the Captain says,” he hissed to her. “Or else both of us are going to suffer.” Rominia stared him dead in the face and refused. He narrowed his eyes but then she spit in his face. He fell on his ass in surprise. Rominia smirked and the captain chuckled at Tommy’s expense.

“You bitch!” Tommy screamed before walking over and punched her in the face with enough force to sprawl her on the ground. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth as he grabbed her leather top to bring her back upright. His calm demeanor during the fight was gone and now was replaced with rage. Rommie continued to give him a death stare and remained unchanged.

“I’m waiting,” the Captain groaned and switched the way she was crossing her legs.

With a bit of panic, Tommy thought about how to force Rominia to switch. A bit of inspiration struck and a cruel smile grew on his face. Swiftly, he stuck a finger in one of her fresh wounds, digging around. The pain was excruciating and she grit her teeth, trying to tough it out. She would not be commanded like a slave. However, her flight or flight instinct kicked in. She headbutted Tommy as her form began to change shape. As she grew, the rope snapped under the pressure. She grew to her enormous form and domineered over Tommy.

“Captain?” Tommy’s voice quivered.

“That’s enough,” the pirate queen had decreed. Though this did nothing to halt Rominia. Rommie raised her claw to bring down on Tommy’s delicate skull.

“Enough!” The Captain screamed and extended her hand. A translucent green collar shackled itself around Rominia’s neck. She yanked the magical chain and tightened her grip, dragging Rominia from her position and onto the floor. As the captain tightened her grip, the collar began to dig itself into Rominia’s neck, choking her. Rommie clawed at the floor, begging for breath. All of a sudden the collar eased up on her neck allowing her to breath. She raised herself off the ground and stood up. She took a step closer to the shadowy woman, however the Captain raised the imaginary chain and tightened it ever so slightly. The werewolf stopped dead in her tracks, breathing heavily, unsure on what to do.

“Good girl,” the captain smugly spoke. “It seems like we will be getting to know each other very well.”

***

Romina had just gotten back to the Captain’s quarters. She tossed Bobby’s head and his coin purse in front of the Captain. Clutching her side, “He tried to escape,” she stated plainly. “I dealt with him.”

“Good, now I have a new job for you,” The shadowy woman spoke calmly.

“But captain-” Rominia pleaded.

“I did not give you permission to speak, dog,” the captain hissed. She paused and collected herself before continuing. “There are reports of a boat on the horizon. The Storm Crow. I need you to collect their taxes for me.”

“I beg of you to heal me, my lady.”

The Captain summoned the ethereal chain around Rommie’s neck and yanked it to the floor, forcing Rominia to eat dirt. Right next to her were the claw marks of her first of many interactions with the shadow lady. “You don’t get to ask me anything, mutt. Now go.” The collar was released and Rommie rushed out of the room before the Captain stopped feeling generous.

Hopping from boat to boat, Rominia cringed as she felt the stab wound open and bleed. Eventually she came to the outer edge of the ring to where the ship had just docked. A man had just tied their boat to the network of cords.

As she ended up next to the massive ship, she screamed up, “Storm Crow, lower your ladder. You are being boarded.” She could hear the murmuring of the crew members before eventually the ladder had descended. Crawling up the ladder, Rominia could see the crew, which seemed much sparser than that of a ship this size. Additionally there were two women, which was uncommon on the seas, especially dressed in such a manner. It was none of her business to ask however.

“The Captain sends you her greetings. I am here to take your boarding fees.”

 

[Hela]

Hours ago, she had been seated upon the throne of Asgard.

Now, Hela found herself aboard a barely seaworthy vessel and docked in what appeared to be a floating shanty town. Beyond that, she was still at a loss for wherever in the Nine Realms she had fallen after he ill-fated yet preordained role in Ragnarok. The Goddess looked back to the spaceship that seemed to serve as a focal point for the floating community, and then her eyes moved back to younger woman who stood next to her.

Azula’s golden eyes scanned met Hela’s, and for a brief moment, the goddess thought she sensed something off in that gaze. Fear? Or was that a predatory gaze?

Hela smirked at the dark-haired woman as they neared the edge of the floating shanty town. “You’re not from around these parts, are you? Throwing fire around doesn’t seem quite conducive to a life on wooden vessels.”

“I don’t care about your life story,” Azula spoke, her voice soft yet devoid of the slightest twinge of sarcasm or softness. “Do not attempt to feign interest in mine.”

The Goddess of Death, despite herself, smiled a little wider, but there was no mirth or glee in that expression. “Hot-headed.” She whispered to her makeshift companion, eliciting a sneer from Azula. “You remind me a little of someone I know.”

Despite herself, Azula took the bait. “Who would that be?”

Hela leaned until her lips were nearly brushing against the other woman’s ear, much to Azula’s clear and present discomfort. “Me,” she spoke before giggling, but much like her smile, the older woman’s laughter oozed sinister intentions.

“We have little in common.”

“You’re probably royalty where you come from,” Hela spoke after turning her attention to the ‘docks’ that they had just arrived unto. In the background, some of the crew were scrambling to lash the vessel to its neighbors, and after that, the Asgardian imagined they would melt away in with the rest of the riffraff, hoping that would secure their safety from the approaching holocaust. When Azula offered no protests, Hela continued. “I’d wager your probably important. Perhaps you’re in line for the throne? But something got in the way…”

“It would seem that our arrangement is nearly an end,” Azula interrupted, turning her eyes once more to meet Hela’s gaze as the vessel thudded against a pair of neighbors.

“Perhaps.”

Like clockwork, the pair heard the men scrambling across the gangways and rope connections. Without breaking eye contact with the other, the women threw out a hand behind their backs and killed the crewmen. When those who hadn’t attempted to flee saw what was going on, they raised their voices only to find themselves struck down where they stood. In fact, a few of them were impaled against the masts. When the screams died down, their hands dropped harmlessly to their sides, and the two of them turned to the central walkway that floated between the derelict ships. As if unconcerned by what they had just seen, some denizens of the settlement could be spotted securing knots on adjacent ships and platforms.

Before either woman could broach a topic regarding the dissolution of their partnership, they heard a voice cry out from the central gangway. Storm Crow, lower your ladder. You are being boarded.”

“Is that us?” Hela asked with wide eyes as fresh blades materialized in the air around us.

“It would seem so,” Azula replied as she kicked a rope ladder over the side of the ship. “This should be entertaining.”

Whoever had called out to them quickly ascended the ladder. Within moments, their caller was revealed to be a woman with “The Captain sends you her greetings. I am here to take your boarding fees.”

Hela, her head halo’d by a half dozen blade swords, flashed a toothy grin at their ‘boarder’.

Stepping forward, Azula lifted her hands, which erupted with a coat of burning embers, and proceeded to stare holes through the newcomer.

“How about this,” Hela spoke. “You take us to whoever deigned to threaten us, and we won’t kill you right here and now. I believe those terms are much preferable to all parties involved.”

 

[Azula]

Azula tracked the boarder’s eyes as she glanced behind them at the mess of bodies littering the Storm Crow. The woman’s skin got a bit paler as she took in the brutal scene, motivated, Azula assumed, by fear. A natural response, the princess mused; only a fool would look upon such a massacre and not wonder if they would be the next victim.

For her part, Azula was happy to indulge that nightmare. Hela had been the merry murderess of the majority of the ship’s crew, and the fire princess would not lie: her fingers itched to taste death again, to see the light leave someone’s eyes as she turned them into smoldering ash or crushed a burning-hot hand to their throat. This brute, somehow finding herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, would make for a fine treat after a long day at sea — after a long first day living in wherever she was.

The strange woman’s eyes finally settled on Hela. Hmph. A flying army of swords was impressive, indeed, but this insolent agitator would soon learn to keep Azula in her sights.

“Your silence betrays you,” Azula glared, “and now it’s too late.”

With that, she leapt forward, springing into a cartwheel towards the unwitting tax collector. The blonde, caught off-guard by Azula’s instantaneous aggression, stumbled backward, barely evading being grazed by a fireball. Hela reached up and wrapped her long fingers around the hilt of one of her necroswords and swung it at the woman, who ducked beneath its swipe and crashed to the floor with a loud grunt. Hela glanced up at Azula.

“I didn’t even hit her,” the goddess shrugged.

“No matter, I will,” Azula huffed, kicking her leg out and pressing her boot squarely onto the warrior woman’s upper back. She buckled beneath Azula’s blow, clutching her side and falling to the floor of the ship.

Hela stood a few feet away, arms crossed, collection of swords still hovering above her head. “If these are the Captain’s greetings…” she clicked her tongue, “...I’m not impressed.”

Azula lifted an eyebrow, not enthused either. Why was everyone in… wherever this was so pathetic?

She let out a deep, annoyed sigh, then glanced over at her companion. As she did, the woman beneath her heel took advantage of her arrogance, and suddenly the fire princess felt a big hand wrap around her ankle.

Hela rolled her eyes as Azula was tossed headlong into the rope ladder. The fire princess slammed abdomen-first into the waist-height wall surrounding the ship’s deck and, balance and advantage lost, tumbled over the side. The Goddess of Death watched, jaw slightly slack, as her temporary partner-in-crime plummeted towards the sea, then cringed as she heard a loud splash.

She glanced toward the warrior, who was back on her feet and unsheathing her warhammer. “It seems I am doomed to be consistently disappointed today,” she said, almost to no one. “What’s your name? It’s looking like I may be in the market for a new partner, and I bet I’m more formidable than your precious Captain.”

“My name is Not Interested,” the woman growled, lunging forward. Hela blinked, stepping back and launching sword after sword at Not Interested, but the ferocious enforcer batted each blade away with the sheer brute force of her warhammer. The goddess watched as the woman edged closer to her until finally she swung the huge weapon at Hela herself.

The hammer clanged as it clashed with one of Hela’s necroswords. The suddenly-formidable adversary pushed down, attempting to break through the blade, but Hela held strong against the assault, observing the woman with great interest.

“Such a terrible name,” she hummed.

“Not… actually… my name,” the woman grunted.

“Obviously,” the raven-haired woman rolled her eyes. “Hela.”

“Rominia,” came the reply, “witch.”

Hela swerved beneath the hulking hammer, letting the force of Rominia’s blow take her to the ground. She reached out with her unarmed hand and caught the enforcer by the waist, pulling her close and placing the necrosword’s blade against her neck.

“See, now was that so—” she began to taunt Rominia, when she became acutely aware that the hand grasping her opponent’s waist was… wet.

She shoved Rominia away, holding up her hand to see that it was covered, undoubtedly, in the woman’s blood.

“You were already injured,” Hela stated the obvious.

Rominia growled and made to reply when suddenly the crackling of flames took both women’s attention.

They both spun toward the door to the lower decks, watching as the ship’s cabin was engulfed in huge, blue flames. Azula stalked out of the doorway, wet hair a jumble on top of her head, her armor gleaming from the moonlight’s reflection off the streaks of sea water coating it. She wore a furious grimace on her face, her tightly-closed fists wrapped in stunning sapphire flame.

Hela placed a hand on her hip. “You burnt down our ship?”

Azula scowled deeper. “I burnt down our ship.”

 

[Rominia]

“I burnt down our ship,” the words escaped from the Fire Princess’s lips. Rommie looked behind the teenager to see the brilliant blue flames consuming the cabin. Romina took a step back cowering from the fire, but she couldn’t escape.

“Oh no you don’t!” Azula hissed, leaping in the air with a flying sidekick; fire burst forth from her fist and her foot. Rominia jumped back, narrowly dodging the fireball. However, it landed onto the deck of the ship, creating another source of the sapphire flames. The warmth emanating from the fire nipped at her flesh. From the blaze, Azula charged through with another fireball. Rommie lost her balance and stumbled backward, the fireball striking her straight into the chest. The searing pain flashed through her for a second before she stumbled and regained her balance.

“No more playing around,” Rommie growled, she felt her body ache and her muscles tense.

“That’s enough,” from the flames Hela emerged with her nose turned up. “Can you two kill each other when we get off this burning ship.” The woman had one hand outstretched to stop the two, with her other hand on a sword. Smart. Rominia relaxed, her bones cracked together in place. Azula, still in her martial arts stance, never took her eyes off of Rominia. The Fire Princess erected, taking the time to squeeze the water out of her hair. Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her firsts.

She let out a stubborn ‘fine’ before she let out an angry sigh. A devilish grin came to her face as she turned her head and witnessed the destruction she had caused. She then strolled toward the ladder, with regal poise, and climbed down. Hela motioned for Rommie to follow suit. Rominia narrowed her eyes towards the witch and strode to the ladder, never turning her back towards her opponent. She then climbed down the rope ladder, her side wound searing as she made her descent. She leapt off the ladder about halfway down, landing on the makeshift dock with a heavy thud. She grunted as he hit the ground, clutching her wound and feeling the life essence flow from her. Hela leapt from the top of the deck, seeming to float in the air and landed with sinister elegance, like a snake before it strikes. She turned toward the ship, eying it up and down as more of it fed the growing flame.

“What a pity. I had just grown fond of the thing,” she casually remarked as the fire danced in the reflection in her eyes.

Azula tensed, shifting her footwork to form an offensive stand, while Rominia had one putting pressure on the wound and the other resting on the hilt of her warhammer. Azula took one step forward before Hela outstretched an arm in front of her. She gave Azula a look and a nod before she stepped in front of the Fire Princess.

“It seems that this ‘Captain’ of yours doesn’t seem to take very good care of his people,” she spoke seductively. “It doesn’t make sense that he would send out a valuable enforcer who is already injured,” she spoke with a mocking tone and ended her sentence with a patronizing smile.

Rominia tightened her grip around her weapon. “Your flattery will not sway me, witch,” she growled.

“No need to be so defensive,” she said as she strode forward, causing Rominia to tense up her muscles. “You look like a valuable and competent soldier. It would be a damn waste to kill you here, when we could simply come to... an arrangement,” she paused, pressing her fingers together. The woman exuded an aura of confidence. She walked with a certain swagger and carried herself highly. It was hard not to be lured in by such a charming predator.

Rominia raised an eyebrow, keeping her defensive stance, “What sort of arrangement are we talking about?”

Hela scoffed, “Do I need to spell it out to you?” The stoic expression on Rominia’s face was a sufficient answer. “Your leader seems to treat you poorly. Why don’t we just... remove them from the picture?” Hela spoke as she circled around Rominia, like a vulture. She stopped right in front of Rominia.

“Us? Taking out the Captain?” Rominia couldn’t help but smile, “Doubtful. I rather like being alive. I still am able to pursue the Hunt.”

“Oh. Is that so?” Hela snarked. “Well, let me put it this way,” her kind voice had turned more sinister and with an overtone of anger. “What would you prefer, fighting the two of us now or combining our strengths to free you from your pact?” Rominia’s grip around her weapon loosened as she thought. Hela interrupted her thought, “I doubt you would survive our encounter,” Hela looked Rommie up and down before staring at her side, “especially with that gash on your side. So, what’s your decision?”

Rominia paused before smirking, “You are quite persuasive, witch.”

“I much prefer Hela or Goddess of Death. Thank you.”

 

[Hela]

Hela paused for a moment. “Queen would also work,” she added as she turned to find the Azula. “Would you care to burn down more ships? Perhaps ones that don’t has us onboard?”

The Fire Princess sneered as the mast of their ship, wholly wreathed in flames, finally went tumbling down into the ocean. “Fine, let us continue to this entertainment to its conclusion,” the younger woman spoke as her dark eyes set upon the remainder of the lashed together flotilla. “Something tells me that won’t be a difficult task.”

“You underestimate the Captain,” the ragamuffin replied.

“I underestimate nothing,” Hela shot back even as images of a fire giant flickered in the back of her brain. “Isn’t that right, Zula?” She turned to her esteemed crewwoman, who seemed to have somehow grown more consternated.

“Azula.”

The older woman sneered. “Close enough,” she turned to Rominia and flashed one of her warming smiles. “Lead the way, we’d love to parlay.”

The injured woman, her hammer rested on her shoulder, turned and started down the central gangway that connected many of the vessels. As they traversed the rickety pathway, Hela amused herself by glancing at all the ships lashed to this ‘port’—most of them seemed empty, as if the crew were out entertaining themselves elsewhere.

Or they’re all hiding belowdecks.

The Goddess of Death fell a few paces behind Rominia and found herself alongside Azula. When it became clear the golden eyes of the young woman weren’t going to naturally come to her attention, Hela started to clear her throat at an increasingly louder pitch.

“What?” Azula finally barked, prompting a cursory glance from Rominia, who still seemed apprehensive about the whole affair.

“So, was it your father?”

“What?” The Fire Princess repeated, now furrowing her brow.

“Was it your father who kept the throne from you? A brother, perhaps?”

“You are insufferable.”

Hela sneered. “So hostile, and I haven’t once tried to stab you.” The Asgardian snapped her fingers as she turned her focus back to her ‘companion’. “Is this a mother thing? Do I remind you of mummy?”

The younger woman took that moment to turn and glare at Hela. It was an impressive glare. Truly a masterpiece, as it wove that delicate line between hard cruelty and implied instability. A mighty little glare that would probably wither most of the fiery girl’s lesser peers.

“Let me guess, mother didn’t love you as much as some other sibling?” Hela added. “It’s okay, my father locked me in prison for a few thousand years. You’ll get over it.”

Azula stopped suddenly and twisted, her mouth opening to spout something out just as gunshots pierced the veil of tranquility that had befallen the port after the burning ship had sunk.

Hela, confused by the nonsense, turned just in time to be tackled to the ground by Rominia, who seemed to be attempting to look in all directions simultaneously. “We’re surrounded,” the bloodied woman whispered.

“I see that,” Hela replied as she shoved off the vagrant. Swords blinked into reality around the woman as she threw herself from the gangway. Before she vanished into the ocean, a sword found her open palm and she buried the blade into the barnacle-encrusted side of the nearest vessel. Climbing up a few feet with a second necrosword, the woman then proceeded to slip into the ship through one of its many gunports.

Once inside, Hela brushed herself off and turned her attention to the three men half-awake on the gun deck.

“Hello,” the Goddess of Death chimed as she threw out her hands and willed her blades into the necks of two men. Striding forward, she manifested a third blade and buried it up through the stomach and into the ribcage of the third sailor. He died with a confused and stupid look on his face as Hela made her way to the stairwell that would take her back to the main deck. Kicking her way through the wooden door, she smiled as she sent twirling blades into the guts of the three gunmen hiding below crates as they worked to reload their weapon.

Glancing across the gangway, Hela snickered as the other boat went up in flames. Men screamed out prays to gods that wouldn’t be listening as they were slow roasted by Azula.

“I think I almost like it here,” the Asgardian queen whispered as someone came running out of the nearby cabin with a flintlock pistol. They made it three paces before their arm was sawed off by one of the woman’s swords.

Sprayed with blood from the screaming sailor’s stump, Hela could only grin in delight as more fools came forward to void their lives.

 

[Azula]

This old woman irritated her.

A crouched Azula watched the Goddess of Death roll into the ocean, leaving her alone with the wounded dog they had somehow managed to attach themselves to. A cursory glance at the ships around them told the Fire Princess that the trio had managed to waltz right into some sort of ambush, and her instincts told her who was to blame.

She lunged for Rominia, wrapping her fingers around the woman’s throat and lighting her other fist aflame as she straddled her. “I assume this is your doing?” the younger woman barked. “Please -- let me know how you’d like to die and I’ll see if I can oblige.”

“I have no idea who these people are!” Rominia spat back, lifting the hilt of her hammer and shoving Azula off of her. The princess landed on her ass just as the warrior woman continued her defense. “I am just as confused as you, I swear it.”

Azula scowled, and narrowed her eyes. She felt obligated to not trust either of these bitches as far as she could throw them; why in the world would she give her trust to anyone, for that matter, in this idiotic new world? The first people she’d stumbled upon locked her up in the brig and droned on about how unlucky it was to have a woman aboard. She didn’t have long to reminisce about her original captors as gunshots continued to ricochet above their heads, forcing her and Rominia to duck behind a stack of crates for cover.

From one of the ships, she heard screams. Death screams.

Hmph. Hela.

Well, she’d show the other ship housing their assailants exactly how unlucky of a woman she was, then.

“Prove it,” the Fire Princess smirked at Rominia. “Prove your loyalty.”

“What? To… who?!” the woman shouted over the sounds of gunshots. A fair question -- to be honest, Azula didn’t really have an answer, but before she could say so, Rominia had one more. “And how?”

Azula scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Before the enforcer could answer, Azula’s feet had left the ground. Fire erupted from her fingertips, thrusting her up to the top of the crates. Both her feet plunked against the wood as she landed and faced down the contingency of four men aiming rifles over the side of their ship. They trained their guns on her, supposing her an easy target now that she’d made herself fully visible. But even from here, she could see the fear in their eyes.

Gunshots rang out through the night in her direction, but she’d already lifted herself off the crates. She half-heard Rominia shouting curses as the crates she’d been using for cover went up in flames, but the princess ignored them; she had more pressing matters to deal with.

Her feet touched down behind the quartet of snipers. One of them swiveled around just in time to feel Azula’s boot against his cheek; he stumbled backwards, tumbling off the boat and into the water below. Two more rushed her, but she grabbed them by the collars and sent them into the depths with their friend before turning and launching a fireball directly into the chest of the fourth. He fell, crashing to the deck charred and burnt to a crisp, as she leapt up onto the edge of the ship, pointed her finger towards the sea below, and released a lightning bolt from its tip.

The water lit up, shockwaves pulsing through its tides, and the three men she’d left doggy-paddling began to seize and shake from the electrical force. She watched with great interest as their bodies quickly went slack, and disappeared beneath the depths.

“Hmph,” she chuckled, “too easy.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The Fire Princess spun around at the sound of a wayward, desperate battle cry, lifting her hands to firebend at the approaching assailant. Her own offensive skills seemed to be unnecessary, though, as Rominia stepped between them from nowhere and leveled the man’s skull with her hammer. His screams stopped short as he collapsed into a dead heap on top of the man Azula had earlier burned alive.

The teenage terror hopped down from her perch, once again eyeing the mysterious woman. Despite being injured -- despite being essentially their prisoner -- she had somehow made it, quite quickly, up onto this ship to come to her defense. Hm. Perhaps she’d be of more use than Azula had originally judged.

“Thank you,” the younger girl said, genuinely. Rominia let out a deep sigh.

“There’s more below decks,” she replied curtly.

“Not an issue,” Azula shrugged, lifting up her hands. Her fists were once again enveloped in blue flames and she launched both of them into the deck, ripping apart the wood and setting the ship aflame. She stood for a moment and watched her handiwork, chuckling to herself as her sapphire embers started to streak the ship’s silhouette. She glanced over at Rommie. “We’d better get off.”

The enforcer rolled her eyes and turned toward the edge of the boat before stopping in her tracks. Azula strode up next to her and crossed her arms, letting out a frustrated huff as she watched a whole crew of miscreants -- not altogether dissimilar from the woman standing next to her -- marching haphazardly down the dock, a ridiculously dressed person being carried on a chair at the back of the pack. She didn’t know why pirate captains insisted on wearing enormous, frilly hats, but the existence of it told the fire princess that this undoubtedly was the leader Rominia had been meant to lead them to. The large amount of protection she had… well, it didn’t worry her, per se, but it did fucking annoy her.

As the ship around them went up in smoke, Azula turned, with a scowl, to Rommie. “Any tricks up your sleeve to handle this? She is your boss.”

 

[Rominia]

ominia’s face went pale as she saw the familiar face on the palanquin. She could feel the pirate’s anger from across the dock. The enforcer brought her hand to the nape of her neck and rubbed it nervously. Azula took notice of Rommie’s anxiety and scoffed.

“What? Are you that much of a coward?” she spat, giving her temporary companion a dirty glare. The fire princess cracked her knuckles and grinned in anticipation of the upcoming battle.

Rommie took a step backward, halted by the sensation of the fire behind her licking her heels. “She left the ship?” she tried to keep her composure. “I’m not sure I’ll be of much use,” her voice betrayed her uneasiness.

“Tch. Truly useless,” the princess scorned. “If you won’t fight her, then you are my enemy,” she sneered before she hopped onto the shaky, wooden dock below.

The lycanthrope took in a deep breath and mumbled to herself, “Hircine bless me in my hunt.” She tightened her grip around her warhammer and dropped down from the burning ship. She landed with a heavy thud, swaying the loosely held together planks, and ripping open her wound. Rommie staggered and grabbed her side, getting only a pitiful look from Azula. The army of pirates stopped a few hundred feet away; the men holding the palanquin shifted and hoisted their leader even higher.

“What a bad dog,” the Captain mocked, leaning one of her hands against her chin. “You should know better than to bite that hand that feeds you. Now heel!” she commanded, pointing her finger to the ground. Rominia stopped herself from stepping forward, her instincts conflicted about obeying versus obtaining her freedom. She tensed her muscles and bit her tongue.

“No,” she shouted. Azula smirked at this response.

“Looks like we got a rapid mutt, boys?” the captain joked, followed by the somewhat forced laughter of her crew. “Let’s get them!” she cried out, extending her hand to command her people.

But before even one of them could step forward, a bloodied mass flew out from a nearby ship. The corpse crashed into a few pirates, sending them flying: crashing into boats, docks further away, or even into the briny deep. Hela emerged from the top of the ship, domineering over the mob.

“Sorry about that,” she teased, “I thought it was only polite to send him back to you.” The captain grimaced at this new force, who gracefully leapt down onto the docks herself, toying with her necroblade. “Though it seems like your wounded enforcer to steal from us,” she continued on. “Big mistake. She’ll be working for me now,” she hissed, glaring at the Captain.

“How dare you speak to the captain that way?” one pirate shouted out before a necrosword impaled his throat. He fell over, gurgling on his own blood.

The rest of his brethren paused for a moment before the captain spoke over their hesitation. “Get them! Fire!” she screeched! The front row of pirates charged, unsheathing their swords, while the back row withdrew their flintlocks and took aim at the Goddess of Death.

Hela threw out a slew of Necroswords, impaling her foes before they even got close to her. In response to the pops of the pistols, Hela raised up her cape, absorbing most of the damage. Azula, not wanting to be outdone, advanced forward. With each step she raised her fist, launching volley after volley of brilliant, blue flames. Men were engulfed in the flames, their horrific screams hung in the air.

Rominia couldn’t stay put and let these two do everything. She needed to work to free herself. She charged with a battle cry, wielding her warhammer high into the air. She took to the frontline, letting Hela and Azula eliminate the vast majority of the pirates with swords, lightning, and fire. Whenever someone drew closer to the trio of girls, she would not hesitate to smash their skulls in. As specks of blood and brain matter flew into her face, the lycanthrope was reminded why she loved the heat of battle.

“That’s enough, Rominia!” the Captain shouted. She raised her hand and summoned a green, ethereal chain that was bound to an equally ethereal collar around Rommie’s neck. “I said, heel!” she commanded, yanking the chain to the ground.

The enforcer was forced onto her hands and knees. The green collar tightened around her neck, digging into her skin. She gasped for air, her vision fading, and her body went into a fight or flight response. Her skin sprouted fur and her bones grew longer. In a sick fascination, Hela and Azula could not tear their eyes away from the transforming werewolf.

The captain cruelly smiled, “Now sic ‘em,” yanking briefly on the collar. Rominia howled in pain and turned to face her former pals in crime.

 

[Hela]

“Ahh, a literal dog… how on the nose,” Hela muttered as the transformed Rominia came galloping at them on four legs. Turning to Azula, the Asgardian patted her on the shoulder. “You deal with this one,” she remarked before abruptly leaping into the air.

“Where are you g--” Azula scowled as she jumped sideways to avoid the claws of their mangled associate-turned-attacker. Adjusting sharply, the werewolf lunged once more as a floating Hela scowled and turned to confront the captain of the vessel and her surviving crew.

“You know, we did give you a chance to surrender,” Hela remarked as she flexed her neck. All of this fighting had been… invigorating in countless ways, and for the first time since waking up in the ocean, the woman was beginning to feel a little bit closer to herself. When they fired at her, she was even content to sneer at them as the bullets smashed harmlessly against her. “Surely you—” Hela winced as something exploded behind her—Azula clearly did not appreciate the fine art of timing. “Surely you have something a little stronger than tiny muskets?”

The Captain sneered as she drew something from behind her back. As she got her hands around the weapon, it unfurled into a child-sized gun with a lovely barrel that crackled with foreign energy.

“Ahh,” Hela muttered as the bolt of plasma smashed into her chest. Wind immediately knocked out of her lungs, the Asgardian blacked out for a few seconds and opened her eyes to see that she had crashed through the hull of a nearby ship. “Two can play that game,” the woman growled as she sat up off the barnacled floor of the vessel and craned her neck to the crumpled mass lying in the corner. There was no sword stabbed through the man’s throat nor was he burned alive. A collateral casualty?

“Come now,” Hela muttered as she pointed a finger at the corpse. Instantly, the body began to shudder as a greenish hue subsumed the air around it. “Rise now,” the woman grumbled as she started to feel a strain in her head. “Rise now and serve your Goddess!”

Outside on one of the neighboring vessels, Azula slipped free from the ravenous grasp of Rominia long enough to see the ethereal green shockwave that erupted out of one of the seemingly empty pirate ships. Even the werewolf found itself momentarily drawn to the display, which washed over them with seemingly no ill effects. On her nearby flagship, the Captain tilted her head and was on the verge of sharing a quip with her boatswain when a corpse nearby let out a sudden groan.

The helmsmen, his throat a jagged and gaping wound, wheezed as his now glowing green eyes set themselves upon the Captain. Sitting upright, the body that had been Helmsman Travers in life grabbed a discarded sword from the deck and lunged toward his former crewmates. Without skipping a beat, the Captain grabbed the boatswain by the collar and threw him into the reanimated helmsman, who tore into his soft little belly with hapless abandon. By the time the helmsman collapsed dead to the deck, the Captain already had a shot lined up, and with a faint grin, she blasted the reanimated corpse back into the sea.

Quite literally punching her way out through the side of the ship, Hela floated up and took a moment to breath in the fresh chorus of screams as the freshly revived pirates set about slaughtering anything that still lived in the flotilla of vessels. Setting her sites on her two allies, Hela flew across the gangway and dropped down between Azula and Rominia.

“Nice lightshow,” Azula, who bore a few fresh scrapes, spat as she wiped a trail of blood from the corner of her mouth.

“Go take some of our new… pals and end this,” Hela spoke without taking her eyes off of the werewolf.

“You don’t order me around,” Azula came back with immediately.

At that, Hela glanced over her shoulder at the younger woman. “If you want, I can leave you to pet sit some more? You seem to be having plenty of fun.”

Azula sneered. “I didn’t want to kill her… too quickly.”

“Yes, of course,” Hela rolled her eyes as the fire bending snark-maiden leapt from the ship and moved to pursue the Captain. Turning back to Rominia, Hela extended her arms out to her sides. “Truth be told, I have a soft spot for large wolves,” she spoke as the werewolf, singed in a few spots, started to lumber towards her. “Have it your way,” she growled as the clawed fist came rushing in toward her face.

After stepping back to give herself the needed space, Hela managed to grab the werewolf’s wrist and wrench it far away from her face. The Asgardian cracked a faint smile as her foe tried to lash out with the other hand, only to be similarly intercepted. “Truth be told, I think I’m really starting to feel much better,” Hela whispered as she threw out Rominia’s hands, stepped forward, and kicked the werewolf square in the chest. The transformed woman went crashing backwards through the ship's railing and down into the ocean.

 

[Azula]

Azula cracked her neck and popped her wrists as she strode down the dock, flanked by several of Hela’s undead usurpers. Behind her, she heard Rominia’s guttural growls pierce the air as she lunged for the Goddess of Death. The wolf had proven a formidable, if not unmatchable, opponent for the Fire Princess, but somehow she found herself not at all worried for Hela’s safety. Was it because she had, in the past few hours that she had known the old woman, become quite confident in her abilities? Or was it because, despite searching and searching, she found no reason to actually give a damn about her well-being?

Time would tell.

Rotting planks crunched underneath her boots as her uneven bangs swayed before her face. Dirty pirates hacked and slashed in her direction, but she couldn’t be bothered to care; the zombies took care of any would-be assailants before they could get close enough to bother her. The splashing sounds of their corpses crashing into the rough, unforgiving ocean of this place played like a beautiful song in her ears, and she felt her lips slowly curl into a smirk. She had yet to have much reason to smile in this strange new world, but bloodshed satisfied her deeply.

Up ahead, the Captain sat on her palanquin, leaned back and legs crossed. She had a slender but toned figure, from what Azula could tell from the moonlight; a curved blade hung from her hip, but it glistened so that the fire bender wondered, idly, when the last time the woman used it had been. Did the Captain prefer fisticuffs, or did she not fight at all? If it was the latter, was the ever-encroaching princess, the expression on her face growing more crazed by the second, striking fear into her pathetic, tyrannical heart? Her hat dipped down, its brim and its shadows blocking her face from view, so Azula couldn’t tell. That would have to change.

At last, the princess reached her quarry, the Captain’s personal bodyguards almost decimated by the small contingency of zombified freaks accompanying her. As the undead lurched past her to try and feast on the grand prize, Azula clenched her fists and shot them out to either side. Blue flames erupted from them, scorching the walking corpses and sending them lumbering, confused and charred, into the ocean, rejoined with the sweet embrace of death once again.

She stood, alone now, facing the Captain, and crossed her arms, her smirk now fully stretching from cheek to cheek. “Rather impolite of you to send your dog after us, don’t you think?” she began, lifting an eyebrow. “After all, you came all this way to see us.”

“I send my dog, and your master sends her little bitch,” the Captain remarked dryly, tilting her brim so Azula could see one emerald-green eye boring into her. The princess’ smirk immediately flipped into a deep scowl.

“The old woman is not my master,” she spat, fire bursting from beneath her heels and snaking a path through the rotting wood behind her. Embers of blue leapt from the ground as the planks began to shudder and snap from the heat, dropping into the ocean until the segment of dock that still held Hela and Rominia, locked in combat, was completely severed from where Azula, the Captain, and the last two of her entourage stood.

“So, fire, eh?” the woman in the wide-brimmed hat observed, “how quaint.”

If Azula hadn’t managed to keep herself under control, the entire port would’ve heard a low, grumbling growl emerge from her throat. These fools always underestimated her, but hadn’t she always proven them wrong? She’d been the one who subdued the Avatar until he was close to death. She’d organized the sacking of Ba Sing Se. She’d taken command of the Dai Li.

She -- Azula, Crown Princess of the Fire Nation and the most powerful Firebender the world had ever seen -- was to be feared, not mocked, and this pretender would soon learn why.

She lifted a boot and crashed it into the docks, flame spitting up from the wood and singing the feet of the two burly men holding the Captain’s palanquin. They released its handles, sending the large seat tumbling toward the planks, but the Captain pushed with her feet and backflipped off of it before it crashed to the floor. Azula lifted her fists, wreathing them in fire as she launched a right hook at the guard on the left. Her flaming punch connected with his cheek, eliciting a wail from him as burns crept along his face and he fell backwards into the wrathful ocean.

Powerful arms wrapped around her waist from behind and lifted her up into the air. She flailed for a moment before reaching back and clutching her prey’s face with both her hands. His screams filled her ears as he burned, his grip loosening until she dropped harmlessly to the floor. She turned around and launched a kick into his rotund stomach, knocking him, too, off the docks and into the ocean before turning her attention back to the Captain.

“Heh,” the Captain hissed, “you truly do have a fire inside you, girl, and I’m not just speaking of the one you toss about like a cricket ball. Are you quite positive you don’t want to come work for me?”

“I work for no one,” Azula shouted as she leapt off the ground, fire erupting from the soles of her boots and propelling her towards the Captain. She brought a foot around in a roundhouse kick, but pain streaked up her leg as she collided with one of the Captain’s steel bracers. Her face scrunched in pain as she landed back on the ground and ducked beneath a swipe from the woman’s other arm.

The Fire Princess reached out and placed a hand on the pirate’s stomach, unloading a fireball directly into her abdomen and sending her flying backwards onto a small fishing boat docked nearby. The Captain rolled almost to the edge of the craft, rising nonchalantly to her feet as Azula leapt inside its bounds as well. The princess felt frustration coursing through her veins as the woman seemed to be altogether unphased by the flaming attack aside from the physical impact.

Azula lifted her fists again, punching forward into the air and launching fireball after fireball. She let out an animalistic yelp with each blast, only growing more and more furious as she watched the Captain evade each one. Her messy bun grew messier as she raged atop the fishing boat, until finally she watched helplessly as the Captain unsheathed her scimitar and batted a fireball back at her.

The flames themselves couldn’t scorch her -- fire cannot hurt a dragon -- but she felt their impact push her shoulder back, knocking her off her balance. The world seemed to move in slow motion as she let her gaze return to the Captain and watched, powerless, as the curved blade swung for her.

The next few moments flashed before her eyes first. She saw the sword slice through the front of her, cleaving a gash from neck to hip and ending her destined reign in this new realm before it had even begun. She didn’t know if Rominia would be able to overwhelm Hela alone, but with the Captain’s help, she found herself doubting the Goddess of Death’s abilities ever-so-slightly, and she knew the pair of them would go down in history as little bugs that had been squashed, blips in the grand history of this place rather than --

Conquerors. That was the vision that came next. She saw herself standing, arms behind her back, lording over the people of this pathetic realm. She saw Hela, elegant and shockingly casual, standing aside her, and -- to the Firebender’s surprise -- Rominia, too, flanking her other side. She knew this couldn’t be a real vision; that wasn’t within the scope of her powers. Yet something about it felt altogether real, and achievable… much realer than the blood streaking the front of her body in the other reality she imagined.

She was owed. Her father had been weak, and he’d never appreciated her strength. Her mother had feared her. Her brother had resented her, and hated her, and never loved her like she tried to love him, in her own way. For her entire life, Azula, Crown Princess of the Fire Nation and the most powerful Firebender the world had ever seen, had been wholly cast aside and underestimated no matter how much potential she had shown. Now, this stupid foppish fool thought she had her pegged.

Her hands flew up in front of her and clapped onto the flat surfaces of the scimitar, stopping its descent toward her sternum and holding it in place. Beneath the shadowy brim of her ridiculous hat, the Captain’s eyes went ever-so-slightly wide with confusion, then… yes, that’s what it was: with fear.

Azula smirked.

The silver blade began to glow blue as sapphire flames danced out from underneath the Fire Princess’s palms. Liquid metal began to drip down Azula’s skin as the sword melted beneath her very fingertips. She bit her lip and chuckled maniacally as hot, burning sword residue covered her palms, and the Captain’s face grew paler and paler. “The Captain, eh?” she laughed. “Captain of what, exactly? Hmph. You are a fool and a pretender.”

Seconds later, the sword’s blade had disappeared almost completely, and the Captain stumbled backwards. Azula shook what she could of the hot metal liquid off her hands and stepped toward the woman, reaching down and snatching her up by the collar.

“It’s… not possible,” the Captain muttered. “You’re a child.”

“If that’s the story you want to tell,” Azula shrugged, tossing the pirate back onto the docks, “then go ahead: let people know that today was the day you were usurped by a child and a elderly woman.”

The sound of Hela’s feet plopping down on the planks nearby called Azula’s attention, and she looked over to see the old woman had managed to subdue Rominia temporarily. The werewolf still growled and foamed at the mouth, struggling against the Goddess of Death’s grip, but Azula had to hand it to her: for a veritable grandmother, she had managed to be quite capable.

She returned her gaze to the Captain. “Of course, you might not be able to brag about that to anyone if your wet dog eats you first.”

The Captain looked to Rominia, reaching out a hand. The ethereal leash from before emerged from the tips of her fingers, wrapping with a muted but still potent force around the werewolf’s neck. Within Hela’s grasp, she went slack, causing the Goddess of Death to raise an eyebrow before Azula had leapt back to the platform. The Fire Princess’ fingers wrapped around the woman’s wrist and her long, sharp nails punctured the skin, electricity jolting out of the scrapes they made. The leash fell from the Captain’s grip and almost dissipated into thin air, but Azula reached out and grabbed it before it could vanish.

Rominia howled, and the firebender stepped forward, leaving the Captain splayed prone behind her and tugging on the leash. The werewolf stalked forward, and the Goddess of Death released her hold. “Hm,” Hela mused, “I didn’t expect to come home from the shelter with a pet, but their sad eyes always get you.”

“What say you, old woman?” Azula asked, her smile laced with malice. “Shall we feed this mangy hound her dinner?”

 

[Rominia]

Azula smirked as she yanked on the leash, tightening its grip on Rominia’s neck as retaliation for all of the cuts that she had received. Rominia growled Azula, but the fire princess wrapped her fist in the ethereal chain, pulling the werewolf closer to the unconscious form of the Captain. This was not the meal after a hunt. Rommie had not tracked her quarry, not even defeat it. This was the scraps that someone else left over. But at this point, she didn’t care. Her anger towards her cruel master had forced her to abandon her high and mighty morals. The lycanthrope opened its maw as the Pirate Lord came to. Azula and Hela couldn’t help but grin from the look of genuine terror and horrific screams that ensued.
***
With the body disposed of, Azula turned to her tentative ally. “Now what should we do with this mutt?” she accentuated with a quick tug on the leash. “One of these might be pretty useful,” she nodded as she looked down at Rominia.

Hela put her hand to her chin in thought, “Yes, it would be nice to have such a beast on my side.” She extended her hand towards Azula, “Give that to me,” she commanded, “Let’s see what this leash can do.” The Fire Princess faltered, she didn’t want to give up her control of the rabid monster at her feet, especially while it was eyeing the two of them. Hela, however, inspired a weird sense of confidence and trust. Hesitantly, Azula placed the end of the magical leash into the Goddess’ hand. Hela brought it up to her face, carefully inspecting the magical item. She looked disappointed. “*This* is what has been keeping her at bay?” she chuckled. In the same beat, she snapped the chain in two, as easily as one would snap a toothpick.

Azula took a step back. “What are you doing!” she exclaimed.

“Whoops,” Hela mocked with a smirk. Wasting no time, Rominia erected to her full height, domineering over the two women. She snarled at Azula, taking a step forward and baring her teeth. Azula tightened her stance, preparing to throw out a fireball. However, the Goddess of Death stepped in between the two, simply looking at the lycanthrope with a deadpan expression. Steam puffed out of Romina’s nose as the two continued their staring contest.

Eventually, Rommie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Within seconds, the tall lycanthrope shrank, reverting to her normal form. She still managed to look down on Hela, but the goddess had a smug smirk now. Rominia glared at her in turn.

“Now that everything is resolved,” Hela casually spoke, as if she just finished a petty argument, brushing off the sawdust off her shoulder. “What do you call this new plane? I would like to know the name of my new realm,” she punctuated with a smile.

Rominia frowned and made a gesture with her hand. “Are you a stranger as well?” she inquired. “That’s what the locals call people like us; people from different realms,” she stated. Hela looked unfazed by the fact that she was in a completely different land, maybe this wasn’t the first time. The lycanthrope then extended her hand out to the sea, “Welcome to Opealon, home of the salty seadogs that you...now have under control,” she paused to take a look at one of the roaming zombie pirates that was idling on the pier.

“Opealon,” the Goddess pondered the word aloud. “A nice name for my new conquest. Now instruct me to the closest landmass,” she commanded.

Rominia smirked before pointing up. Above in the clouded sky, one could see the distant land peaks, with vines hanging down from their masses. She brought her eyes back down, “We’ve gotten nothing but sea down here, and unless you can fly...we’re stuck here,” she eyed Hela up and down.

“Don’t worry about me,” Hela commanded. “The real question is where we shall begin our conquest,” she thought aloud.

“We?” Rommie chuckled. “You’re on your own. I answered some questions, my debt is paid,” she shrugged. “Good luck with that ‘conquest’,” she accented with air quotes before turning to walk away.

“Curious. If kind acts do not earn your loyalty, what does?” Hela asked. “Is it power, money?” Rominia stopped in her tracks.

“I never say no to a job,” she remarked with a smile.

“What are you doing? We don’t have any money!” Azula whispered intensely.

“She doesn’t know that.”